Day 105 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Let Spacemen by The Killers inspire you.

Erin: In the morning, my husband was always a different man. He questioned everything. How some people are groggy and slightly crazy at night he would be in the morning. I got this impression that his dreams were on a different level than my own. In a different universe than my own. I used to think he was crazy, but then I got to know him and I started to listen and I realized in his crazy there were answers to questions I was finally starting to ask.

Shannon: I breathed in and opened my eyes. I was back on Earth and lying in a hospital bed. “We’ve got a pulse,” one of the doctors standing over me spoke out loud in a relieved tone. My vision was a little foggy, and my body was going though a weird tingling sensation as life poured back into my veins. I was alive. Thank God I was still alive.

The doctors and nurses were working on examining me, and patching up my broken pieces. Well, the physical ones. It was weird seeing them work on injuries I’d inflicted on myself. I wondered what they thought of me, and the other people like me. I winced at the pain of one of them sticking an IV into my arm.

After they finished and they gave the all-clear for visitors, my mom burst through the doors more emotionally destroyed than I’d ever seen her and immediately held me in what felt like the making of the world’s first never-ending hug. My eyes flooded with tears and I couldn’t control my heaving. It was one of those bittersweet hugs, the kind that burn, but in the moment you need them more than you need air to survive. “Why would you ever try to leave me like that,” she questioned, hardly able to get the words out coherently.

“I don’t know,” I coughed out.

“You don’t get do something like this and say that. I’m not going to accept that. You tell me what’s wrong,” she demanded, finally backing away but she didn’t loose contact as she took ahold of my hands in hers.

“I just thought I wanted to be free, because I’m not free in this world. It’s doesn’t really like me,” my voice faded out as I tried to control myself.

She shook her head. “I promise the world doesn’t hate you. I would hate a world that didn’t have you in it, so whatever made you feel that way is wrong. They don’t know how important you are.” She put her hand under my chin, “You don’t know how important you are.”

Listen, interpret, and create?

Day 104 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about what a character sees outside of their window.

Shannon: As I was reading in bed I heard a loud chirping coming from outside my open window. The bird must have been in a tree close by. If I didn’t move too fast, maybe I could peak at it before it flew away. My pet parakeet was already singing up a storm, right next to the window screen, probably drawing in some interest with his outsider tone. I looked outside and there was blue jay flying right across from Albert, but when it spotted me it flew up and away. I giggled. “You have secret friends, you sneaky little thing,” I cheered. I felt so proud.   

Erin: My most productive space was my desk at home. The breeze from the window calmed me. The air was my favorite smell. The white noise of the town soothed my mind. Most importantly however all I could see was bricks.

Where the browns and reds mixed could be distracting, but I had memorized them. There was nothing to learn about the portion of the brick wall that was my work companion. The lack of newness left all of my creative energy for my work.

Some would say I would be best without a window. I can’t explain it, but that set up would make me feel trapped. There was a reason I stayed in my crappy apartment. You couldn’t find a view like mime anywhere.

Help us see what your character sees.

Day 103 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Incorporate as many things of one color as you can.

Erin: My friend always took Saint Patrick’s Day too seriously. He put on his full emerald suit. He turned his breakfast into green eggs and ham with some food die. Then he drank his morning shamrock shake. At work, he wore his olive colored glasses to make up for the people in the office who were not on “his level.” His desk was scattered with hand cut clovers and streamers of various shades of green. For lunch, he ate all of the foods he could match with his color scheme: Peas, string beans, cucumbers, granny smith apples, asparagus, pistachio pudding and spinach chips dipped in guacamole. After his work day was over he would go out to survive on green beer until he was lulled into a green wonderland dream coma. It was no wonder he always looked sickly green the next day when he came in.

Shannon: He was nearly the perfect man for me. His appearance was made up of all the features I usually swooned over: tall, dark hair, deep brown eyes. Check, check, check. Nice personality and a good sense of humor? Another check. So what’s his glaring flaw? Well, he has this primitive need to explore the great outdoors. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about a person having a passion, but I wish I didn’t have to get dragged into his so often.

I get to spend the rest of the weekend in the middle of the cold woods with Caleb and his chocolate lab, Bruce. No camper, no electricity, and no plumbing. We’re roughing it. However, I don’t think I’m ever leaving my spot next to the fire as soon as he gets it started. I’ve burrowed into a blanket and I’m trapping Bruce by my side to try to suck up some of his heat, but Caleb just thinks I’m keeping him out of the way. “Want to do me a big favor,” he asks looking over his shoulder.

I sign to make him feel bad and to earn more girlfriend points. Bye, bye warmth. “I guess.”

“I need more wood for the base. The dirt is too damp. I can’t keep the flame going. Some dead leaves might help too,” he flashes a smile so won’t get angry about it.

Fine I grumble, getting up, “But as soon as I see a snake I’m out,” I warn as I take each step cautiously, trying to avoid the mud puddles.

“Like you’re out of here, you’re going home?”

“Don’t worry, just out of commission. You can’t lose me that easy,” I clarify as I accidentally step on soft ground. I try to pull my shoe out before it sinks in too far, but it’s too late. I’m going to be mess by the end of this.

What is going to be the color of your story?

Day 102 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about the first day on the job.

Shannon: I hate the first day of work. You never know what to expect. You don’t know who to watch out for, who to confide in, and who you have to make a good first impression with. You definitely don’t know what your days are going to look like from here on out. It’s all new territory and as exciting as a new adventure can be, I wish I could skip the day altogether.

After going through an orientation and signing all of paperwork, my boss led me to my position in the dish room. “Marcus do you have time to train April,” he questioned a guy in a different color shirt than everyone else. He was a manager.

“Absolutely,” he moved to where we were standing.

“You’re in good hands with this one. He’ll teach you everything you need to know, but if there is anything he can’t answer my office is always open. I may not be there, but you get the point,’ he raised his hands with a nice smile and then he was off to get to his own work.

“Alright, the wall is pretty packed so let’s get right into this,” Marcus explained and then he showed me all the tasks they needed help with. It was easy enough to pick up on, and nothing too stressful. I was a little slower than the other workers, but that was expected. We even got a few minutes to talk as the line slowed down, and the crew seemed pretty awesome. They’d make each shift go by fast. I think I’m going to like it here.

Erin: I love the first day of a job. I love hearing more names than anyone could possibly remember in a day. I love hearing the words of wisdom each worker thinks will benefit a new employee. Most importantly I love the feeling of being in over my head. Because when I am in over my head I know I am being challenged. I know I am growing, and I know that I can’t yet fathom my own potential.

Write about the start of a characters new chapter.

Day 101 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Make a reflection a strong focus of your story.

Erin: The day I looked in the mirror and my reflection stopped mimicking me I was inspired. To be honest at first I was scared, but in the end I was inspired. When my reflection no longer had a hold on me, why should society? It couldn’t nor should it. I was done following the rules, I was going to make them.

Shannon: “The mirrors in this shop do not reflect the image you expect to see. They’ve each been enchanted with a blessing or curse, but how it is perceived is, as most things, dependent on the eye of the beholder. Some prefer to explore alone as a friend’s wondering eyes may see a reflection you despise. Good luck dearies. I hope you like what you see, but even if you don’t that doesn’t necessarily mean the mirror still wouldn’t be of good use to you.  Everything on this floor is for sale and if you have any questions I’ll know, and I’ll be around. After all, your reflection is everywhere,” the older women gestured to the walls with a wink. It was our first time in her shop, so she had to give us the whole spiel.

Sam led me to a table of mirrors that caught her attention. “They’re probably all just a bunch of carnival mirrors,” she whispered. “They had to find some ploy to attract some business,” she speculated as she picked up a compact mirror from the table and struggled to open it.

“Well I guess we’ll see,” I joked, pointing to mirror behind my head, and then I turned around pretending to sneak up on it. Nothing out of the ordinary appeared and I was starting to think Sam was right. Maybe the store really was a bunch of self-built hype. Then I saw some green movement behind me. I peaked over my shoulder, but nothing was there. When I looked back at my reflection weeds were engulfing my body. They looked like they were trying to strangle every inch of me, but I didn’t feel anything. I held out my arm. “What does it mean,” I whispered.

“I come believe this mirror knows about secrets,” the shop owner was suddenly standing beside me, and I some how managed not to jump. “Every time I saw my reflection it had a shadow behind me, and I knew something was lurking in my life. I told my most treasured secret and that same day the shadow in the mirror disappeared. Now maybe I did something else that I don’t remember, but that’s my theory,” she shrugged.

“You might be right,” I nodded, pretty certain it wasn’t just a gut feeling that made her prediction resonate with me.

“Ugh,” Sam interrupted with a loud moan, clearly not overhearing our conversation. “I know I’m not perfect, but I am not that ugly,” she shoved compact back down and quickly inspected herself in another wall mirror. She sighed in relief, “Thank goodness.”

“Do I want to know your theory on that one,” I questioned the woman.

She let out a quiet laugh. “Truth is you probably already know.”

What’s does your story reflect?

Day 100 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a child’s perspective on who they will become as an adult.

Shannon: When I grow up I’m going to be a veterinarian. I’m going to help sick animals at the zoo. Then I would get to spend everyday there, and it’s my favorite place in the whole world.

I would get to swim with the dolphins and hang out with the penguins. I’d even get to pet and hold some baby cubs. I’d high five the seals after making them feel better. Every day will be so different and so much fun. I can’t wait to grow up!

Erin: I don’t ever want to be that lady. She spends all of her day working. Not doing anything fun either. She just sits in her little cage, answers phone calls, groans, and hits her keyboard really hard. Then she goes home to her boring boyfriend and they cook and they eat. They watch some TV and they go to bed. The worst part of it all is when the boring boyfriend who never buys her flowers or kisses her goodnight asked her to marry him she said yes. She said yes even though he doesn’t want kids and she loves them. She said yes to boring tuna salad Sundays. She said yes to the promotion in her cage job, so they could say yes to a home with white shutters and white walls. She says yes to everyone but her true self, I wished she’d have just stopped and asked me.

Show us the future from the eyes of a child.

Day 99 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about the significance of a ring.

Erin: “I need that ring,” I started shaking as I yelled at my friend.

“It’s just a piece of jewelry,” she complained being completely insensitive.

“No, it’s more than that,” I corrected.

“What do you mean it’s more than that?”

“My grandmother left me that ring. It’s all I have of her,” a tear dropped from my eye.

“I didn’t know,” she sighed. “We’ll find it,” she started shaking around the sand next to our towels.

“It’s probably in the ocean,” I whined plopping down onto the towel.

“Maybe, but maybe not. We won’t know until we try.” She continued to scrounge around the sand. “But also, if we don’t, it’s not all you have of her. I knew your nana. You have her fire in yourself. You’ll never lose that.”

“Yeah,” I questioned more than agreed.

“Yes, so prove it and let’s find this dang ring you claim to care about so much,” she nearly screamed.

She was right, what would Gram think of me if I gave up so easily?

Shannon: “I should take it off, shouldn’t I,” I asked Molly as I twisted the rose gold arrow ring around my finger. I liked fidgeting with it whenever I was nervous. I found it comforting. What would calm me if my hand was completely bare?

She looked at my finger. “I don’t know. It’s complicated. Maybe you could move it to a different finger. Show Dave that your ready to move on.”

“I don’t if that’s enough for him or me. If I put it on my other hand or a different finger it’s a division, and I don’t want him to feel like I’m dividing my love. It’s his now. He doesn’t say anything, but I think this is what he’s been waiting for.”

“If it makes you feel better you can take it off, but don’t do it because you think you have to. You used to say it kept him alive. If that’s what it means to you, if it holds his memory, you can still wear it,” she tried to convince me to change my mind.

His name was Eric and we both grew up with him. He was our friend, and in high school he became my boyfriend. He died in a crash a year after we started dating. It felt like I lost a piece of me, and the only thing I had left of him was some pictures and the ring he gave me for my birthday. Since that day, I’d managed to never take it off. Like a security blanket, as long as I had the ring on it felt like his ghost was watching over me.

I closed my eyes and reconsidered. Was I actually ready? I breathed in and out, and felt my hand easing the ring off my finger until it was no longer connected to me. He deserved to be free too.

“How do you feel,” Molly questioned.

I pressed my lips together then opened my eyes. “Scared,” I answered honestly.

Make an object more than an object.

Day 98 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about what a character locks up.

Shannon: “I thought you said she had her most prized possessions in this safe. This is just a bunch of crap,” Dean threw the mess of papers and envelopes back inside.

“I’m sorry. That’s what she always called them, and since she was always guarding the safe like her life depended on it I just assumed whatever was inside was valuable to more than just her. Are you sure it’s not a trick? Is she hiding something in any of the envelopes,” I grabbed for one and shook it. There was something inside so I carefully took it out, trying to tamper with the paper too much. Dean started to look through another envelope in a rush, “Careful,” I warned.

“Are you serious,” he narrowed his eyes. “We’re stealing from your friend.”

“Not if she doesn’t have anything good. She doesn’t have to know,” I argued.

“You’re such a chicken,” he shook his head, and started opening his at a snail’s pace to annoy me.

I unwrapped the letter inside the envelope to see something that looked vaguely familiar. It was beaded bracelet and two of the beads had words engraved on them. One said “best” and the other said “friends”. My name was on the sheet of paper. Suddenly the memory came to me. I made both of us our own bracelet and gave one of them to her when we were kids. I was so proud of it, and I was so happy when she used to wear it, and even happier that I had a friend. A tear fell from my eye, before I could stop it. I hadn’t even held on to my own over the years.

“I found a necklace. I think it’s made out of gold,” Dean cheered. “Whoa, are you ok?” He saw me wiping my face with the back of my hand.

“Put it back. Put everything back.”

Erin: There was one thing in Heather’s safe. I grabbed the paper out. It was a photograph of her as a child and an older woman. I could tell from their noses who she was. That was her real mom. Or biological mom, our mom was our real mom. As she was for me, I just didn’t know if Heather had put that picture in there to keep it secure from danger or prying eyes.

Unlock your character’s secret.

Day 97 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a suspicious delivery.

Erin: “Is this for you,” my roommate asked setting a plain brown box on the counter in front of me.

“Doubtful, who’s it from.”

“Don’t you think if I knew that information I would know who this was for,” she grumbled grabbing a knife.

“Wait your just going to open it,” I worried snatching it away from her.

“Um yes,” she placed her knife down before grabbing it back.

“It could be something dangerous,” I elaborated.

“Who do you think we are? The president,” she scoffed running the blade down the middle of the tape.

“No,” I shouted before she pulled out a blanket.

“It’s just merch from the place who did our yardwork,” she showed me the garden print covered in the logo of Greener on Our Side. “Get over yourself,” she tossed the gift in my direction.

Shannon: “Is your name Catherine Stone,” the man outside my screen door questioned before I could open it.

“Yes,” I replied reluctantly, since I wasn’t expecting any visitors.

“I was told to give this package to you,” he held up a box.

“Do you know who it’s from?” I open the door and he handed it over, seeming to be in a bit of a rush. I quickly inspected the outside for any information but it was just a bare box with my name and address.

“No. We don’t know where it started. I got it from someone who got it from someone else. We get paid if the box and all of its contents get to you fully intact,” he explained with a cringe and a shrug.

“I hope that’s not as creepy as it sound,” I bit my bottom lip.

“For your sake me too,” he agreed. “Well good luck,” he said it genuinely but seemed happy to ditch the package on me at the same time.

After I thanked him, he left and I carried the box to my dining room table. I sat and started pealing back the tape, too anxious to waste time getting out my box cutter. I ripped the flap open, to reveal a sea of red fabric. With the suspicious delivery, the color freaked me out a bit, so I slowly pulled it out, expecting the worst.

Luckily it was just a dress, and with the quality of the fabric and the detail work, it was an expensive one at that. A letter fell to floor as I released the skirt to view its length. The dress looked like something someone would wear on a red carpet, and not to any of the events in my life.

I laid it over my chair and picked up letter. It was short but it contained a ticket to a ballet performance. The note only said: An old friend requests your company to the event on the enclosed ticket. He will be waiting in seat 202, right next to your own, and only asks you to spare your time, as everything else you will need is included in this box. Your presence is highly sought after, and he guarantees the night will not be easy to forget.

I smiled. I had a feeling I knew exactly who would put something like this together, no matter how sneaky he thought he was.

Write about when something doesn’t seem right.

Day 96 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about time running out.

Shannon: I walked into my office to find Marvin sitting in one of the chairs across from my desk. I peaked my head back through the doorway and inspected each direction, making sure no one was nearby. Once I was satisfied I closed the door.

“Do you know why I’m here?” His voice was cold, and since he didn’t look at me, I could only see from the side he still had the same intimidating appearance that was engraved into my memory the first time we met.

I gave a slight nod before sitting down to make it seem like I had everything under control, while trying to make myself believe it too.

“You’re running out of time James. I warned you when you agreed to this deal that time cannot be added or replaced. I suggest you get to work, because as we agreed…” he passed a note with what I assumed was my final time reminder across the table, “failure is not an option.” He placed his hat on his head with a swift motion, picked up his briefcase, and as quickly as he arrived he disappeared.

My hands were shaking as I opened the note: One week. My heart burned. It couldn’t be so soon. How had time passed so fast? I didn’t stand a chance. I dug my fingers into my hair and buried my head into the desk. Maybe I could run.

“What’s wrong,” Stan snuck inside. He must have seen Marvin. He knew about the deal. I passed him the note without saying anything. It spoke for itself, or so I thought. “Easy,” he stated with confidence.

“Are you kidding me?”

He shook his head. “The way I see it, even if it’s impossible, you have two options. You go down swinging, or you take yourself out before they can get you. Come on,“ he put out his hand. “You’re going to swing.”

I breathed out a growl. “Fine,” I took his hand. I didn’t feel better, but I did feel braver.

Erin: “I don’t have much time left,” a very drunk Brian complained.

“What the heck are you talking about. You have no time left,” I corrected.

“She’s married,” he mumbled distressed.

“No, but she’s going to. You’re too late,” I had to be blunt and I had to determine if I should even bring him to the reception.

“But I love her,” I barely made out his slurred words.

“But she loves her to be husband. You decided too late. She’s someone else’s, you’ll never have her,” I insisted.

“You’re mean,” he shouted.

“I’m honest, because I love you. You weren’t honest, because you don’t love Sarah. So she’s never going to be in love with you, she’s no longer looking,” I pointed out.

Quickly, write your story!